Chapter 7 #3
She had no idea how long she’d been asleep when a sound woke her—sharp, distinct, entirely out of place.
Metal scraping against metal. The unmistakable click of a lock disengaging.
Emery's eyes snapped open, her heart immediately racing. She lay frozen on the bed, straining to hear over the rush of blood in her ears. The darkness pressed in, familiar furniture shapes rendered menacing by adrenaline and fear.
Another sound. Softer this time. Footsteps? Or just the house settling?
She reached for her phone with trembling fingers, the screen's brightness making her squint—2:47 AM.
Swinging her legs over the side of the mattress, she found her slippers and tiptoed toward the slightly opened door.
Movement. Definite movement near the French doors that led to the patio.
Terror flooded her system, sharp and chemical. Someone was inside the guest-house.
With trembling fingers, she tapped the screen on her cell as she raced toward the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind her.
"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"
"Someone's in my house." Her whisper came out strangled, barely audible. "Stone Bridge Winery, the guesthouse. Please, someone's here."
"Are you in a safe location, ma'am?"
"I'm in the bathroom off the bedroom. I saw movement in the living room.”
The French doors rattled. Then silence.
“I think they're leaving." Emery glanced out the window but couldn’t see anything. Every muscle tensed for flight. “I can’t see anything from where I am.”
"Officers are three minutes away. Stay on the line with me."
But Emery's mind was already moving, already pulling up Devon's number with shaking fingers.
"I'm texting the owners,” she told the dispatcher.
Emery: The guesthouse was broken into. I’m on the phone with the police. I don’t know if they’re still in the house.
Devon: Where are you?
Emery: Bathroom.
Devon: Don’t move. Stay there until the police get there. I’m on my way. Won’t take but five minutes to get there.
Emery clutched the phone like a lifeline, the dispatcher's voice a steady anchor in her ear as sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer. She stepped from the bathroom, slowly opened the bedroom door, and peeked her head out.
Nothing.
Red and blue lights strobed through the windows as a patrol car pulled into the driveway. Sandy Kane emerged first, her uniform crisp despite the ungodly hour, followed by a younger deputy with sandy hair and a calm, assessing gaze.
"Emery." Sandy's voice was professional but warm. “Are you in there? Are you safe? You called about an intruder?"
“Ma’am,” the dispatcher’s voice came over the phone. “You can hang up now that the police chief is there.”
“Thank you.”
Devon’s truck pulled into the driveway. He leapt from the driver’s seat, pushed past Sandy, nearly knocking her over, and burst through the front door, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair disheveled, his expression fierce.
He scanned the dimly lit room before his eyes found hers.
"You're okay?" He crossed to her in three strides. "You're not hurt?"
"I'm fine. Scared, but fine." She stood on shaking legs. "They ran when I woke up. I heard the doors, heard movement."
Sandy cleared her throat. “Now that we’ve established that Devon here hasn’t changed since high school, mind if I do my job?”
“Sorry, Sandy.” Devon turned, keeping his arm around Emery. “What are you doing out on patrol at this hour? It’s like you’re a rookie all over again, pulling double shifts.”
“I’ve got a rookie and one out on medical for another week.
My team and I are all stepping up and working overtime,” she said.
“You know Deputy James Chen." Sandy gestured to the other officer.
"We're going to check the perimeter, then I want to walk through everything with you. Devon, I take you’re going to be glued to her for the time being?”
"Not leaving her side."
Sandy and Chen moved through the guesthouse with practiced efficiency, checking windows, testing locks, and examining the French doors. Chen crouched near the lock, pulling a small flashlight from his belt.
"No signs of forced entry," he said. "But the lock here is a standard residential model. Easy enough to pick if you know what you're doing."
“Is anything missing or disturbed?” Sandy rejoined them, her expression thoughtful.
“Not that I can tell,” Emery said.
“Did you see the intruder?" Sandy asked, taking out a small notebook.
“I saw a shadow, and I heard them. Movement near the doors, then they left."
“Devon, do you have security cameras on the guesthouse?” Sandy pulled out her phone. “And if so, can you access the cameras from here?"
Bryson appeared in the doorway before Devon could answer, fully dressed and grim-faced. "Heard the sirens. What happened?"
Devon gave him a quick summary while Sandy waited patiently.
"Security footage," Bryson said immediately. "Let's pull it up at the main house. Bigger screen, easier to see details, and you can look at the entire property.”
"Good idea," Sandy agreed. "Devon, you stay with Emery. Bryson, Chen, and I will review the footage."
After they left, silence engulfed the guesthouse like a weight. Emery sank back onto the couch. Her adrenaline crash left her shaky and cold. Devon grabbed the throw blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders.
"Someone was here," she said quietly. "I know what I heard."
"I believe you."
"Even if the cameras don't show anything?"
"Even then." Devon sat beside her, close enough that she could feel his warmth. "You're not the kind of person who imagines things."
"The article made me look unstable. Another incident like this—"
"This isn't like the article. This is someone breaking into your home." His voice was firm. "That's a crime, not a PR problem."
Tears stung her eyes.
He wrapped his arm around her body and tugged her close. “Sandy will figure this out. She’s the best chief we’ve had in years.”
She dropped her head to his shoulder and tried to suck in a deep breath, but her lungs wouldn’t expand. Her muscles trembled. She couldn’t remember a time in her life when she’d been this terrified.
“Hey. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“Someone was here. While I was sleeping.” She glanced up at him. “What if I hadn’t woken up? What if they wanted to…” she let the words trail off, but the thought didn’t leave her brain. The idea that someone could’ve raped her, or worse, made her heart race faster.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He pressed his lips against her temple and smoothed her hair.
She completely collapsed into his strong frame, giving way to all the emotions. Fear. Panic. Confusion. Anger. Tears came hot and fast.
Devon just held her tighter. He didn’t say a word. She had no idea how long they sat there while she unraveled.
But shortly, Sandy returned with Bryson and Chen. Her face was tight. “We found something," she said, pulling up her phone to show a grainy video. "Front door camera, timestamp 2:38 AM."
The footage showed the front entrance to the guesthouse, lit by the porch light. For several seconds, nothing moved. Then—a shadow. Brief, indistinct, moving quickly across the frame from right to left.
"That's it?" Emery leaned closer. "You can't see anything."
"No clear view of the person, no identifying features," Chen confirmed. "But someone was definitely here."
"The angle's wrong to catch them approaching," Bryson explained.
"Cameras positioned to show who's at the front door, not movement along the side of the building. But whoever this was, they knew to avoid the main camera coverage. And they knew where most of our cameras are located on the property. The only thing we got is someone jumping the fence on the west side near the access road.”
Sandy held her notebook in her hands. "That suggests more than a familiarity with the layout. Someone who knows how the security system works and what would set off an alarm, which wasn’t activated.”
The implication hung in the air, heavy and unsettling.
"Nothing was taken," Sandy continued. "Nothing appears disturbed. Can you think of any reason someone would break in without stealing or vandalizing?"
Emery gestured helplessly at the provenance files scattered across the coffee table. "I've been working on authentication documentation. That could be valuable to someone who wants to sabotage the program.”
"Or to the Boone’s competitors," Sandy said thoughtfully. "Someone who wants to know what Stone Bridge is planning, but they’d have to know to look here. While this is a small town, and people are whispering about your role, it’s not the first place I’d go looking for Stone Bridge Winery secrets.”
"Industrial espionage?" Devon's tone was not only skeptical, it was laced with a touch of frustration. “While I get it happens, it’s extremely rare in the valley.”
“It’s happened before. The premium wine market is worth millions. If someone wanted an edge, knowing your authentication processes, your target collectors, your expansion strategy—that's valuable information." Sandy closed her notebook.
"But breaking in to look at paperwork?" Emery pulled the blanket tighter around her body.
"Why not just hack our email? Take photos with a telephoto lens? Breaking and entering seems like a good way to get caught. Especially in the middle of the night. And a little stupid when the majority of the important pieces are either locked up in the production building, which has people in twenty-four-seven right now, or the main house offices.”
"Unless the point wasn't just gathering information," Chen said quietly. "Maybe the point was intimidation."
The word settled like ice in Emery's stomach.
“That’s what I believe. That someone's targeting her," Devon said, his voice tight with anger. "The article, the video from the tasting room, now this."